


Cuatro

by Claire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: But Rafael did cheat on Melissa, Chris Argent/Victoria Argent/Peter Hale/Melissa McCall pre-relationship, Cunnilingus, F/F, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Melissa thinks Chris is cheating on Victoria, Multi, Threesome, Victoria Argent/Chris Argent/Peter Hale - Non-explicit, he's really not, moresome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:35:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5585581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If anyone asked you how it happened, how you ended up here, you'd have to admit that you're not entirely sure. And you know that seems stupid, that surely you'd know the sequence of events that led to Victoria Argent in your bed and between your thighs, but it's just not that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuatro

If anyone asked you how it happened, how you ended up here, you'd have to admit that you're not entirely sure. And you know that seems stupid, that surely you'd know the sequence of events that led to Victoria Argent in your bed and between your thighs, but it's just not that simple.

You're pretty sure it starts with Peter Hale. Pretty sure most things in your life right now have started with Peter Hale. (And there was a time when you thought you'd never forgive him for what he did to Scott, what he did to your baby. But Scott's more settled in himself now, and even if the wolf inside him isn't entirely the cause - because you've always been proud that he's your son, and that certainly didn't change once he started becoming a little hairier - you think that maybe the people around him right now are.)

You know there was Peter, and Scott being bitten. And you know there were the Argents and Peter being dead and then suddenly not. And you know that the way Chris Argent looked at Peter certainly wasn't the way any respectable werewolf hunter should be looking at any werewolf.

It's by accident you stumble on them. It's late and you've just gotten off shift, and all you want is a coffee from the little coffee shop next to the hospital. The one where they make real drip coffee and add a little vanilla to it. The one where the server who works on a Tuesday night flirts with you every time you go in, even though he's only about four years older than Scott. (And, no, it's not going to go anywhere, but it makes you feel good, and he always gives you a large cup even though he only ever charges you for a small.)

You've got your hands wrapped around the cup as you walk back out, the smell of the coffee sharp and perfect, so it takes you a moment to realise that the two men against the wall of the alley are Chris and Peter. Takes a moment for you to realise Peter's hand is down Chris' jeans and Chris is biting his lower lip to stop himself from making a noise.

You must have made a sound because Peter's head whips around, his eyes too blue and too bright as he looks at you.

"Good evening, Melissa." Peter's voice is calm, like you haven't just caught him with his hand down the pants of another woman's husband.

Chris pulls Peter's hand out of his jeans, quickly fastening them as he shoots a look at Peter. And you may not be able to read it, but Peter obviously can, if the way he rolls his eyes and huffs a sigh is any indication.

"Melissa, I--"

But you don't want to hear what Chris has to say. It's not your place to care and not your place to judge. (Even if you are. Even if your opinion of Chris has dropped, because you can't respect anyone who cheats. And, god, you wonder if Allison knows her father is cheating on her mother. You wonder if Victoria knows, if she suspects. Because you didn't. Not until the evidence was too overwhelming to ignore.)

You walk away without saying a word.

It's the following day that there's a knock on your door, that you open it to find Victoria Argent standing there. You invite her in, even though it feels a little weird. You're not friends with this woman, you know her original intent was to kill your child. (Even if that's not the case any more, even if the death of Gerard seems to have changed the Argents, even if they're more interested in working alongside the pack than killing them.) So, no, you're not friends with her, and yet you know her husband was with another man last night. And you wonder if you should tell her.

"So," Victoria says, "Chris told me you saw him with Peter."

Or maybe you don't need to.

She drinks the coffee you offer her as she talks. As she talks about how she loves her husband, how she and Chris are partners in everything.

"Don't mistake a lack of monogamy for a lack of love, Melissa. Or a lack of trust. Chris knows that my knives are very sharp and should he ever do me the disservice of going behind my back, he'll feel exactly how sharp." Victoria pauses. "In much the same way I would never go behind his."

And you're not ashamed to admit that you don't quite understand how it could work. How Victoria could know that her husband is off with someone else, and be perfectly fine with it.

"Chris has a history with Peter that I knew about long before I ever married him," Victoria says, before she compliments you on the coffee. "He has certain needs that Peter can meet." She pauses for a moment, closes her eyes as she takes another sip of her drink. "And I like seeing Chris happy."

And even though you know you probably shouldn't ask, you can't stop the words from tumbling out. Because all you can think about is the utter flush of pain when you realised that Rafael was cheating, the shame that comes from recalling that the first thought you had was that you weren't enough for him. (Even though you know that's not the case, that Rafael's actions were his and his alone. And you smile as you remember the way Claudia and John were so incensed on your behalf. The way Claudia offered to hold Rafael down so John could shoot his balls off.)

You're pulled out of your thoughts by Victoria's hand on yours. And her skin is softer than you'd assumed it would be, for a woman who handles weapons constantly. You can't feel the gun calluses you've felt on John's hands before.

"Chris isn't cheating on me, Melissa. Everyone involved in this is a consenting adult. And," she adds, a sparkle in her eye that you've never seen before, "sometimes it's all of us together."

Oh. And that's a mental image that's hitting you. Peter Hale is a good looking man, and part of you has always regretted a little that the only reason he asked you out that time seems to have been to get at Scott. (There's also part of you that regrets not hitting that when you had a chance, but you try to ignore that part, only ever admitting it when you're in bed alone, your fingers inside yourself.) Add Chris into the picture, and there's a flush springing to your face at the thought. 

Victoria leaves soon afterwards, and you find your mind wandering, find it working over the words that Victoria said, over the thoughts of the three of them together. Does Victoria watch her husband fucking another man, does she direct Peter in how Chris likes to be sucked. (Although if the two men have that history that Victoria alluded to, then Peter may already know exactly how to draw each moan of pleasure out of Chris.) And do the two of them focus their efforts together, with Victoria in the middle.

The next time you see Victoria, she's with both Chris and Peter. And before you knew what was going on you'd have wondered at two hunters sitting in a coffee shop with a werewolf, but now you just feel your face heating, and turn to leave before they can see you. Only, Victoria's voice stops you, and when you look over to where they're sitting, Peter has a smirk on his face that tells you exactly which one of the three noticed you in the queue.

They invite you to join them, and even though there are a dozen reasons going through your head as to why it's a bad idea, you find yourself sitting with them any way.

Chris asks how Scott is doing at school, how he's doing at Deaton's, and it seems strange to be sitting here, making small talk, when you're thinking about what you saw in that alley, what you found out afterwards.

You survive through the coffee, through the comments Peter keeps making. The ones that sound so innocent and yet drip with innuendo. Chris just rolls his eyes and reaches out to lay his hand on Peter's thigh. And Victoria looks at them with a fond indulgence, before the three of them leave, and you're left sitting alone with half a cup of coffee and watching them walk down the street.

You find yourself running into them more and more. Several times at the coffee shop, once in the diner that you'd gone to after shift, because you know that Scott is at the Stilinski place, and there's nothing in the fridge to cook, even you had the energy. They invite you to join them, and you say yes, because it's nice just having that human interaction after twelve hours of patching people together and seeing the worst of what life has to offer.

You practically inhale the burger when it arrives, because the three car pile up that happened on the motorway means you missed lunch, were too busy trying to hold someone's insides together. (It's a miracle that you didn't lose anyone, a miracle that no family had to hear the worst news they could have possibly had.)

The time passes easily, and you find yourself appreciating Victoria's wry sense of humour, and the way the conversation never excludes you, even though you know there are so many things they could have talked about. They talk about Allison, and ask if Scott is as frustrated at the new Chemistry sub as she is. (He is. According to her child, Harris may have been a dick, but at least he was a dick who knew his stuff.) They talk about the upcoming Winter Formal, and the way Allison finally caved and asked Peter to go shopping with her for her dress.

"She wants someone who has taste and isn't one of her parents," Victoria comments.

"Which eliminates Chris on both counts," Peter adds.

(You try to ignore the low "You'll pay for that later," that comes from Chris. The "I'm counting on it," that's Peter's response.)

Chris and Peter leave first, Chris leaning down to press a kiss to Victoria's lips as he tells her he'll be home once they've checked the preserve.

"A hiker found a deer ripped apart earlier today," Victoria says, answering the question you haven't asked. "Doubtful it's a rogue wolf, but it never hurts to check."

You nods and try to listen to the rest of what Victoria has to say, but the food is settling in you and the adrenaline you've been coasting on is finally catching up. You realise you've spaced out when you hear Victoria saying your name, finally focusing on her.

"Let me drive you home," she offers, holding out her hand for your car keys.

You should say no, tell her it's out of her way, but you can feel your eyelids getting heavier with each passing moment, and you're not entirely sure you could stay awake for the journey home.

She doesn't ask for directions to your house, she doesn't need them. And fifteen minutes later you're pulling into your drive. She takes the your keys out of your hand after the second attempt to open the door, guiding you inside and up the stairs.

She kneels down to pull off your shoes and settles you into bed with the ease of a woman whose done this before. She doesn't respond to your mumbled out thanks, and you're not sure if the kiss you feel against your cheek is just your imagination.

It's a few days before you see Victoria again, a few days before you're walking one way down the street and she's walking the other, and it seems natural to accompany her into the coffee shop.

"What is this?" you ask as she sits down, because you've been telling yourself it's them reaching out a hand of friendship, maybe them wanting to get on your side so they can keep an eye on Scott. But that doesn't explain the looks you've seen going between them, the way Chris so easily reaches out to Peter in your presence, the way Victoria reaches out to both of them. And you've spent weeks trying to persuade yourself that the undercurrent you feel each time you're with them is your own imagination.

Victoria puts her cup down before she looks at you. "We'd like you to join us," she says simply.

And out of all the things she could have said, that was one you weren't expecting.

"Excuse me?" Because you're not entirely sure if you heard her correctly.

"We'd like you to join us," Victoria repeats. And apparently you heard just fine.

You pick up your coffee to take a sip, ignoring the way it's too hot, the way it burns your tongue as you drink.

"Why?" you finally say when you've got your thoughts together.

"Because we like you, Melissa," Victoria answers. "And we'd like to see where that takes us."

You keep waiting for someone to jump out and yell "Surprise!" Keep waiting for that moment where Victoria tells you she's joking. Only, it's _Victoria_ , and this is the furthest thing from a joke it could possibly be.

"All of you?" you ask. Because you've come to appreciate, if not entirely understand, that Peter's just as much a part of this as Victoria and Chris are.

Victoria nods. "For as much as you're willing to give."

You need time, you tell her. Time to think about it.

She nods and tells you to take all the time you need, that they'll be ready when you are.

"And if I'm never ready?"

"Then we all remain friends, and Chris and I will make sure Peter keeps his mouth shut."

You can't help but match her smile, because the thought of anyone telling Peter Hale to shut up is one you can appreciate.

You're off the next day, and Scott has already left, declaring that he was going on an epic raid and that he'd be at Stiles' if you needed him. It means the house is empty, that you can lie in bed and think about what Victoria said.

You've been on dates since Rafael left, but nothing serious, nothing where you looked at someone and thought about cooking dinner with them, about coming in after a long shift at the hospital and just collapsing on the sofa with your head in their lap.

And it's tempting. God, it's tempting. But it's hard enough when there are two people involved, never mind when there are four. You're not even sure exactly how it would work. Victoria and Chris are married, so would that make you just a hanger on? Except, there's Peter to think about, and there are many things you can say to describe Peter Hale, but someone who is willing to just be on the edges isn't one of them.

You stare up at the ceiling, eyes absently following the spider working its way towards the wall. There are so many reasons this is a bad idea, so many reasons you should just say no. But you can hear Rafael's voice, hear the words he'd thrown at you before you'd told him to leave.

_"You're never willing to take a chance, Mel. Just happy to stagnate. You'll never get anywhere in life, because you won't take what you want."_

You phone is in your hand before you even realise you've reached out for it, fingers typing out a single word before sending it to Victoria's number.

_Yes._

It's less than an hour later that there's a knock at your door, that you're opening it to let Victoria into the house. You half expect Chris and Peter to follow her, but she's alone, and you're not ashamed to admit to yourself that you're relieved about that.

She asks if you're sure, asks how far you want to go with this.

"As far as I can."

And it feels freeing, throwing caution to the wind. Because even though you know this could go horribly wrong, you still want it. And it feels like you've spent so long making sure other people get what they want, that actually having something for yourself, for no other reason than you want it, makes you feel almost giddy.

Victoria's lips are soft when they touch yours, and you can taste the coffee she must have just drank, the slight chemical hint of the lipstick she's wearing. Her hands move carefully over your body, cupping one of your breasts over your shirt. Her thumb flicks over your nipple and she swallows your gasp. You reach out, one hand wrapping around her arm and the other fisting into her blouse.

(And you can't help but remember that night back at college, where the alcohol had been flowing freely, and Carrie's lips had parted so easily under yours. The way you'd tumbled into bed and fingers had explored and stroked. The way you'd arched and moaned and the taste of her on your lips. The way you'd both dressed afterwards and never spoken about it again.)

Breaking the kiss, you stand up, holding a hand out. And it takes Victoria a moment, but then she gets it.

"Are you sure?"

You nod, and she wraps her fingers around yours, letting you pull her to her feet, and towards the stairs.

Victoria kicks her shoes off as soon as you're in the bedroom, cupping your face in her hands as she kisses you again.

"I want to lick you until you come," she murmurs.

And, oh, yes. You can feel the heat between your legs, and you want it.

Your clothes are dropped where you stand, only a few steps taking you to the bed. Victoria kisses across your shoulder as she presses you back, as you sink down onto the bed with her over you. She peppers light touches across your skin until her lips are on one of your nipples, her tongue flicking across it.

Her hand skates over your stomach as she mouths your nipple, moving downward until she's at your pussy.

You arch as she slowly drags her finger over you, gathering the slick between your legs and rubbing at your clit. Lifting her head from your chest, Victoria smiles at you, and you think if you were anywhere else you'd be a little afraid at seeing that look on her, the look that says she knows exactly what she wants and she's going to take it. But right now, right here, you just spread your legs further, watching as she moves down the bed and settles between them.

The first touch of her tongue is steady, there, and you wonder why you ever thought it would be anything different. Because this is Victoria Argent between your legs, and she's never struck you as a woman who hesitates in anything.

You can't stop the moan from welling in you, from sneaking from your lips as she licks you, her tongue brushing over you to circle your clit. And, god, you never want this sensation to end, want to keep her between your thighs forever. (You swallow the laugh that threatens at the mental image. Because as much as you'd like it, you think the hospital admin would have something to say about it.)

She licks at you again, and you want to reach out, want to just hold her head there until you come. There's a soft noise of loss that comes from you as she lifts her head. Her lips are slick, and the fact that it's _you_ on them has you getting even wetter.

Keeping her eyes on you, Victoria holds two fingers up, wiggling them, raising an eyebrow in question.

And, oh, yes.

You nod, not entirely sure if you can trust your voice to say anything beyond the pleas you can feel sitting on your tongue.

Your nod gets answered with a grin, like she knew that was going to be your answer. She doesn't break her gaze away as she slides her fingers into you, slowly moving them on and out.

"You feel so hot, Melissa," she comments. "So perfect around my fingers."

There's a flush of heat at Victoria's words, your hips hunching slightly, trying to get her deeper.

"I want to fuck you with my strap-on," she says lightly, like she's discussing what you're going to have for lunch, instead of breaking you apart around her fingers.

And, god, you want that. Want to be under her, spread open around fat silicone, feeling her fucking it into you. Would it be just the two of you, or would Chris and Peter be there. And, fuck, the thought of Chris fucking Peter on the bed next to you, while Victoria fucks you, has you whining.

Lowering her head back to your pussy, she starts licking at you again, mouthing at your clit with her lips.

And you've missed this, missed someone eating you out. (Because Rafael only ever did it a few times, complaining that he didn't like it. Bastard still expected you to suck his cock, though.)

But Victoria's nothing like your ex, focusing on you like it's the only thing she wants. Her fingers are still moving in you, and you wish she had her strap-on with her, want to feel that perfect burn that comes from a fat cock opening you up.

Her tongue flicks your clit, and you can feel it starting to build, that core of heat that's focused on your clit, on the way her fingers are pressing into you.

You reach out, your hands going to Victoria's head. And her hair is too short to tangle your fingers in it fully, so you card them through.

"Gonna--"

You can barely get the word out, your brain swimming in the sensation of yes and now and oh god.

But she must have heard you, because she's pumping her fingers quicker now, pressing them as deep as she can into you before pulling them back. Her lips are at your clit, and all it takes is her tongue moving over you, flicking out and lapping at the nub, before you come.

You're not sure what you yell. Not sure if it was Victoria's name or something else entirely. Your breath is stuttered, and Victoria is grinning at you when she raises her head, her lips and chin wet with your juices. She pulls her fingers out of you slowly, and you shudder with pleasure as she lightly taps your clit once before moving away from your pussy entirely.

She kisses her way up your body until she's at your mouth, until you're tasting yourself on her lips.

"Oh, Melissa," she murmurs, "I'm so very glad you said yes."

Yeah, you think. So are you.


End file.
